I had the pleasure, recently, to embark myself in a great adventure on the other side of the world, also experiencing to be in three continents in less than 24 hours. It was sci-fi for me, few years back to even think about that.
And now I did it and it was a-w-e-s-o-m-e.
I am currently recovering from the jet lag, the rush of being back to an ordinary life and the urge not to get depressed but I can’t wait to write about it and pass the dream to you, friends.
BRB, I promise.
…A preview…
I don’t remember the first time I watched “La stanza del figlio”, an Italian movie by director Nanni Moretti.
It’s a touching story about loss, fatherhood, conciliation and, maybe, hope. It’s quite a different story than the others Nanni wrote, directed and produced; more narrative, less a neurotic-flux-of-thoughts. Slightly, dangerously at times, not autistic like the others. There is a tangible pace of sorrow in there and it hits you so much to make you uncomfortable.
Is there a way to understand a loss? Personally, I still don’t know. In the movie it seems there is a turning point to first compensate, then understand it when at the end Nanni / the Father gives a car ride to his dead son’s girlfriend and her new ‘friend’. In that occasion, the car should have stopped at the certain known and agreed point, just it doesn’t. To proceed together, to face the after, I saw it as a shy hope for the future of that family.
Four in a car, they start singing an old song: the song talks about a goodbye between two lovers, where the woman is strong and confident that it’s over and she will be fine after all. There is a genuine spontaneity in the singing together and enjoying the moment despite everything. I recall this behaviour an important aspect of being Italian. Somewhere, somehow, Italians have always hope.
Lyrics are pretty strong: a persistent use of metaphors from the nature like clouds and water, showing a constant change in feelings as in the outside; a bitter sense of detachment; a sad, but firm, awareness the past is past, the new has already come. My favourite passage is when she sings:
“E quando andrò devi sorridermi se puoi, non sarà facile ma sai, si muore un po’ per poter vivere.”
(And when I leave you must smile at me if you can, it won’t be easy but, you know, you must die a little bit inside to be able to live)
Clever lyrics. I’ve made them mine, quoting them when convenient.
Once I quoted the movie with a nice guy I had met before, but never spoken in depth. I was fascinated by his exotic and religious name, moreover by his story. Complicity of a home party and alcohol, we started chatting and never stopped since then. We found a common ground in the love for old movies.
That night caught ourselves laughing out loud and sharing secrets, tips and stories: when we both confessed the love for ‘La stanza del figlio’ we started singing the song together, at 3 am in a silent dormitory. It was a little nice moment, somehow similar to the movie scene in the car for its spontaneity, that I’ll enshrine in my heart.
The song’s name is ‘Insieme a te non ci sto‘ più by Caterina Caselli and if you’ll ever read this post: much love to you, Jesus (the one w/o the cross, I mean).
When you live abroad it is easier to be amazed by your surrounding, especially when you take a path different from what the guide suggests or when you just follow the ‘locals’.
There is something magic when you get lost and just browse around, following your guts, spirit, mood, or simply people. I really trust local’s taste, as much as you know if a restaurant along the street is good from the number of trucks there are parked. So locals, as much as truck drivers know their stuff.
Two years ago, while wandering with my bike, I stumbled in this park, Britzer Garten, South Berlin. I went back in a sunny day and the wonder still lives there.
It’s an amazing time for taking pictures right now, the light is good but not too bright, the days outside get longer and warmer and the blossom is pure joy for a pics-aholic. On a sunny day, this park is the perfect combination, highly recommended!
Britzer Garten is a lovely residential neighborhood, between Mariendorf and Britz-Neukoelln where all around there are small houses and beautiful garden. Birds sing all the time. It’s quiet and human-sized. The location is out-of-peek for tourists, the result is the total absence of temporary ‘ich-bin-ein-Berliner”- claimers. And it is still nice to find place like that, in a big first-come-first-served city.
During May there is a kind of party going on in the park, people celebrates tulips: colourful wild tulips, choreographic tulips, mix-race ones. It’s a delight walking along the paths and admire the wild tulips and many other flowers, in lovely compositions: words cannot explain the feelings when it’s sunny. It’s pure life and balance. It’s the detail that gives meaning.
The park itself show a perfect combination space/green/visitors, there are several fields, playgrounds and a functional services around the lakes, benches, platforms and chairs along the way. You can rest while watching funny ducks in love chasing one another on the water, kids playing on the fields, ladies having an ice cream or a bratwurst in one of the many kiosk. This park states: please come, walk, rest, have the best of time. And the pictures explain it better than words, indeed.
In a sentence: Britzer Garten, happy place for the soul.
Valanzo 